The Elsannafervor TFLN Drabbles
by Jessica-X
Summary: Just a collection of short Elsanna "Texts From Last Night" drabbles originally posted on Tumblr by yours truly! Each chapter is a separate drabble with its own mini-plot. (Rated between K and T; Icest warning)
1. Gaydas Touch

**THE TFLN DRABBLES**  
by Jessica X (aka Forkanna)

[WARNINGS: This is a derivative work of fiction, and the characters belong not to I. If you have a problem with fictional representations of incest, I STRONGLY advise against reading further. Thank you.

Note: Hi! These are my words, I first blurted them on the Elsannafervor tumblr based on the "Texts From Last Night" drabble challenge. First is the TFLN prompt, followed by the ficlet. As said in the description, each chapter is a separate work and they are all different modern AUs; none of them have the same basic plot. Anyway, here you go! -Jess ]

* * *

 **(213): She's like the King Midas of sexual confusion. Everything she touches turns to gay.**

* * *

Yeah, I know she's my sister. I know we're only supposed to be sisters and that's it. Thing is, ever since Elsa came out one morning at the breakfast table, leaving my parents' jaws slamming into the floor… she's all I can think about. Isn't that weird?

By itself, it is. Much weirder is the fact that it got so much worse when she started touching me. A lot. Not even in a sexual way, either! Maybe in her mind, it was just freeing that her identity was out in the open now, and so she stopped holding herself in check the way she used to. I never thought about it before, but she was almost touch-phobic before she came out. Now? Hair-brushing, hand-holding. Massages everywhere – and I mean _everywhere._ I'm practically jumping her already, and she doesn't think of me any way except as her sister. This is utter torture!

Her smell lingers in the air every time she leaves my room. I'm dropping subtle hints that I wish I knew what made that particular scent, but she hasn't caught on. Most importantly, she hasn't caught on that I want to know so I can go buy some of my own, if it's a perfume or body spray or lotion or whatever it is, and rub it on myself, my bed sheets, my walls, my ceiling.

But I think she's starting to figure it out. She offered to step on my back one night while I was complaining about being sore, and I let her. The noises I made… were not platonic sisterly noises, and barely qualified as pain-relief noises. For the first time, she looked a little uncomfortable when she left. But not mad or sad or scared, just like… unsure, I guess.

Hang on, that's her knocking now. She says she wants to borrow me for a few hours to help her with some henna. Who knows how _this_ will go?

~ o ~


	2. Dancing Like A Velociraptor

**(314): When you're high, you dance like an injured velociraptor.**

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My sister has no chill at a rave. No seriously, Anna is notorious for being the "one to watch" at any rave in the tri-county area. More glowsticks than anybody else, already tripping balls when she walks in the door. I seriously only go to these things to keep an eye on her. I'm too old for raves. They're stupid.

But you know what? She has fun. Maybe she looks like a malfunctioning Chuck E. Cheese animatronic out there, but she has fun so it's worth it. I can babysit her once a month or so like this.

Tonight, however… tonight was different. She was already upset because that fucknut Hans broke up with her a few days ago. That it was the third time doesn't matter; she was into him and he broke her heart. On the sober days, we had a few long conversations about that up on the roof of our house, where our parents can't hear. The wind would blow her red hair all over the place, make her look more like a bird's nest than a sister. She asked me why guys always seemed to use her up and spit her out when they were through. It took a lot of willpower not to say 'because you make it seem like all you're worth is a drunken good time.' It probably wouldn't have been appreciated.

And I don't know how she got me to dance with her. I'd only had one beer – and one in a can, to make sure it was JUST beer. I don't know why I had to stand next to that gyrating, flapping monstrosity, trying to pretend I didn't exist. So embarrassing!

And I don't know why at some point, the music changed, and your dancing changed. You started dancing with me instead of next to me. Foreheads touching. Hips on hips and breath on breath. I started out doing it to humour you, but by the end of the song I wasn't sure anymore.

~ o ~


	3. Campus Tours With Benefits

**(703): And the prospective student I was showing around had to take care of me.**

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"But this isn't really fair to you," Elsa complained as the redhead helped her up the steps into the Health Services building. "You don't even go here yet, so why should you have to-"

"You're hurt," she cut her off. "Don't worry about who's who and what's what until you get that ankle looked at."

Glancing down at the swelling that rested just above the collar of her Toms, she rolled her eyes. "Sprained ankle. I feel so stupid."

"That's what you get for walking backwards like a 'pro' if this is the first time you've ever given a campus tour."

"How did you know this is my first walking t- oh wait. I told you guys, didn't I?" Glancing over her shoulder, she mumbled, "And they're all alone now, who's going to lead them back to the parking lot?"

"I flagged down some professor before we left." After making sure Elsa was braced against the counter, she reached for the clipboard the receptionist was trying to hand her and took it before putting her arm around her again and guiding her over to the seats. "He took one look at you and figured out what was going on. No big deal."

Now having the task of filling out paperwork, Elsa fell quiet about her fears and misgivings. That is, until she was halfway down the page and noticed something: the hand around her waist had stayed there. Even after they sat down.

"Y-you don't have to keep doing that," she whispered.

"Doing what?" When she tensed her side, the hand rubbed up and down. "I'm not letting go of you until the doctor comes to look at your ankle."

Tingles shot up from the fingertips now – ones Elsa couldn't explain. That one sentence turned discomfort into excitement. The paperwork lay forgotten in her hands, eyes looking down into the greenish ones of the pre-frosh.

"What… did you say your name was again?"

Freckled cheeks drew closer, and the girl's previously-free hand was draped over her forearm. Blood rushed in her ears so fast that she could barely catch the name.

"Anna."

~ o ~


	4. Stuck In A Tree

**(518): I'm stuck in a tree and request your assistance ASAP**

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What a text to receive on day one at our new school.

I'm supposed to be the sister who always gets into trouble; Elsa's never late for anything, never causes any ripples. She didn't even complain when our parents dropped the bomb on us that we were moving from L.A., where everything is awesome, to Iowa, where there's… nothing. Nothing but corn and boredom. But I threw a bitch fit. Who wants to leave California, anyway?! All my friends were there, the ocean, our house! Movie stars! Plus the boy I liked, though I'd never tell my parents. That would have just lead to annoying questions, plus my dad would have wanted to move us away even faster. Super embarrassing.

Speaking of which…

So between classes, I get out front of the school and look around for my dumb sister. Well, not dumb; she's actually smart as hell, but not when it comes to people stuff. Sometimes I wonder if she's autistic, but my parents don't take me seriously. About that, or anything at all.

"Psst!" Ignoring that. Gotta find my sister. "Psssssst!"

Looking around, I finally figure out the noise is coming from the sturdy oak next to me. There's also a single pre-calc book next to the trunk, looking like it had been dropped from up in the branches. Which is where my eyes slowly turn…

And they see Elsa, her neat platinum braid looking slightly disheveled – which is way less "sheveled" than it normally looks, seriously. There's also the part where she's wearing nothing but a towel and her vintage Trapper Keeper, and both of those were being pressed to her front like she would die if she lost either one. Which was probs true.

"Oh."

"Just… don't say anything," she told me, pretty damn furious, but also looking like she just wanted to expire where she clung to the tree trunk with her one arm, grass-covered toes in a death grip on the branch below her like some kind of sloth. "Get me down and give me your underwear."

"What?!" I hissed, feeling my cheeks burst into flames. "Give you m- isn't that a l-little personal?!"

"You'd rather give me your skirt?!" As she yelled, she almost slipped and fell, and I gasped, but she didn't. Good reflexes. "Just… God, I hate this place already!"

"What the hell happened?" It's what I asked, but I was also trying to figure out why I couldn't stop looking at those thighs. I mean, had my sister always been so… built? She did track back home, and gymnastics when we were younger – we both did. But I guess I just always thought of her as the book-smart dweeb. She's so dweeby that even the word "dweeb" came back from the slang graveyard just for her.

Maybe that was partly why I was so surprised that she's a hottie now. I mean, we weren't really in each other's "worlds" anymore; hadn't been ever since our interests changed. She just got so much more serious than me, and I thought she was a drag for the past decade. Then there she is, almost naked in a goddamn _tree_ in the middle of the day, and I can't help but see her again. Can't help but stare, fascinated.

"Gym," she growled menacingly. When was the last time I even heard her mad – not just "perturbed" as she says, like when I take too long in the bathroom and she puts one hand on her hip and sighs, but like, full-on, PMS-level, claws-out, _fighting_ mad? "Those… I don't know what to call them, but 'girls' seems too generous!"

Finally realising she would have to have my underwear or this could just go even worse when she got down, I began to look around for anybody watching as I asked, "What did they do?"

"Told me, just as I was towelling off after my gym shower, that we had a bomb scare and I was the only one who didn't know, and we had to exodus via the side door! I mean, I had my towel so I thought I'd at least be reasonably modest, so I only grabbed my binder, and there wasn't time to…" As she went on though, the anger turned into humiliation. I hated watching that happen – _ugh,_ that really tore at me. "I'm so stupid… Anna, why am I so naïve?"

"You just are." That was the bratty little sister in me talking. The human being in me sighed, glanced around again, then tried to reach down and de-underwear myself as fast as I could without attracting attention. Which obviously meant that I got them tangled up on my sneakers a couple of times and almost faceplanted. Damn you, Murphy's Law.

"Thank you," she whispered emphatically when I threw the wad of blue cotton up to her. She started to straighten up, then raised an eyebrow. "Are you… going to look away?"

"OH! Oh, sorry, I don't- I guess I was…" What _was_ I doing? Face even warmer now because my butt was colder than it should be, I turned my back so she could pull them on. My panties. My _sister,_ wearing _my_ panties. It shouldn't be weird, should be totally a usual sisterly thing… but it didn't _feel_ sisterly. Or usual.

"Okay, that's as good as we'll get, I imagine. Um… now help me down?" I did. First she tossed me the Trapper, and then I helped catch her as she carefully slid down the trunk. We managed to do that without falling over or injuring anybody, but she did almost lose the towel once.

And I almost lost my cool. As I helped her back toward the gym, more than prepared to fucking trounce some bitches, my brain raced at the speed of light. These were _so_ not normal thoughts to have about blood relations, not normal reactions to seeing her that way, or knowing her girly bits were in my undies. I was supposed to be disgusted or annoyed or something, right? Not… whatever I was.

In my defense, I blame the breeze up my skirt for making me slide my arm around her waist protectively. Distractions make everything worse.

~ (AN: Sorry, this one got a little long ^_^;; Hope you enjoyed!)


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